


Breathing Fire

by Vienamarie



Series: Affectionate Flames [1]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Canon, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Eventual Romance, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Pre-Canon, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-14
Updated: 2016-12-22
Packaged: 2018-08-08 18:27:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 15,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7768468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vienamarie/pseuds/Vienamarie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Asgore and Sans, longtime friends, spend a lot of their free time together, even when there isn't much to spare. With one ruling a kingdom and the other balancing an upwards of three jobs, conflicts find them fast and often force the two together.</p><p>In more ways than one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“But then I sneezed; there was flour everywhere! We were cleaning it up for days!”

Sans laughed openly at the man sitting across from him, clutching the intricate wine glass to make sure it didn't fall from his hand, and shook his head at his friend’s story. “Asgore, really?? What made you think you could start a fire with flour and honey?”

“Listen, I was a very naïve prince,” the king admitted, nursing his own alcoholic drink in a paw, “I would've believed you if you’d told me that the tooth fairy was responsible for the rise and set of the sun!”

“...did someone tell you that the tooth -”

“If you're still able to speak in coherent sentences then you haven't had enough to drink, my friend.” Asgore quickly interrupted, reaching for the bottle of wine on the table and refilling the skeleton’s glass. Sans smirked as he regarded it a moment, swirling the liquid around, then shrugged and brought it to his mouth. He'd already consumed three glasses, so what was one more?

The wine was sweet but strong, aged for many centuries in the king’s cellars. Asgore had invited Sans to his home to open some and converse with him (or, rather, get drunk with him. They were putting a good dent in the bottle and only _now_ showed signs of slowing down).

The two men were sitting in his majesty’s living room, sharing drinks and stories over dinner like they always did, while the fireplace burned bright and served as their primary light source. Warm colors danced across the walls and illuminated them; the white of the king’s fur was hued in orange and appeared glossy, and the ivory of Sans’ bones looked almost like they glowed. Neither could appreciate the sight at the moment, though, being drunk and tired, but they were having fun.

Sans didn't visit New Home frequently, but when he did it was always with new and entertaining things to say. The king greatly enjoyed his company, for it wasn't often that his subjects possessed such nonchalant attitudes towards him (exceptions being Undyne and...well, Undyne). He was their king, of course, and formalities were common courtesy if anything; but to be so _casual_ with someone, as if their title and status didn't matter, was refreshing. 

Sometimes, however, a little restraint never hurt anyone.

“Heh, fattening me up with food and lowering my defenses with drink so you can bake me into a pie, Asgore? The bottle’s almost empty.”

“I don't think Skeleton Pie would taste very good, Sans.”

“Are you sayin’ you wouldn't eat this a-”

“Golly, I think you might’ve had enough, after all…” said the boss monster, though he smiled with amusement. The normally talkative male was even chattier with alcohol! “It's almost criminal how familiar you are when you speak to me.”

Sans laughed again, cheekbones dusted light blue from intoxication, and nodded. “Hey, you're probably right, to both of those things. ‘Sides, I'm startin’ to see double, and two Asgores just spell mischief.” He leaned over and set his glass on the coffee table, standing. Magic began to crackle as he readied for teleportation. “Before you know it, I'll forget to absorb my food and just let it go right _through_ me, heh.”

The slight sway in his step confirmed that he didn't need anything else to drink tonight. Asgore stood, easily two heads taller than the other male, and extended a hand to steady him. He couldn't help but notice how Sans’ tolerance had increased - the first time they'd done something like this, he was flushed and slurring after a glass and a half, which was unbelievably funny - and considered that maybe they shouldn't be consuming this much alcohol at a time anymore.

“My friend, please let me offer you a guest room tonight.” He said. “I would not rest well knowing I allowed you to stumble home.”

“Hey, I'm good. Really.” Sans smiled. The whites of his eyes vanished, replaced by one azure iris. “I can just teleport back, you know that. Nothin’ dangerous about it. Except maybe landing a few feet off my mark, but y’know, details.”

Asgore shook his head. He wouldn't have it. “The risk of injury, no matter how small, is still too dangerous. Do I need to make this an order from your king?”

Sans felt his smile become slightly smaller. The goat monster always did this when they drank, no matter how much or how little, so he wasn't really surprised. With enough nagging, Asgore let him leave, but this time was a bit different.

“...I mean, probably? Better do it now, since I'm about to go.”

“Then I, King Asgore, officially forbid you from going home tonight. You will rest in one of my guest rooms where I know you will sober up and be safe.” he said. While he normally sounded powerful and authoritative speaking those words, they came out slightly slurred from the wine. Neither seemed to notice, or care.

Sans shifted his weight, looking uncomfortable. His magic receded and he dug his hands into his pockets, alabaster lights returning to stare up at the goat monster. 

“Buddy, I had a great time - really, thank you for dinner and all that - but I gotta go home. Paps needs his bedtime story, that's our thing. I never miss.” he explained. “Literally never.”

“Call him.” Asgore compromised. “Do you have one memorized you can tell him over the phone?”

“One? Heh, I got ‘em all memorized.” Said the skeleton, a proud smirk painting his skull. He still appeared agitated by his temporary restriction, but he wasn't about to complain lest Asgore further mess up his and Papyrus’ evening routine. “...alright. I guess all I can do is call ‘im. G’night, Fluffybuns.”

“Please do not call me that. Goodnight, Sans.” The king sighed, turning and closing the door to the fireplace. In a few minutes, the flame would extinguish itself and cast the room in darkness. 

Waving to the skeleton a final time, he left the room and moved down the corridor to his chambers. As he walked, he could hear one side of the fading conversation between Sans and his brother:

“Hey, Pap, I can't come home tonight, so I'm gonna tell you a story, Kay? Are you in bed?...yeah, I'm kinda drunk, I won't lie t’ya...heh, yeah I'm okay, I promise...Fluffy Bunny? Mhmm, of course I know your favorite by heart...Once upon a time…”

Asgore smiled as he strolled out of earshot. He remembered the Fluffy Bunny book, for it had once been his children’s favorite, too. Not for the first time, he remarked that Sans was an admirably caring older brother, and settled down to bed with a full belly and warm thoughts.

 

• • •

 

“Rise and shine, your majesty!”

Oh.

Oh no.

Asgore cracked an eye open, which took _much_ more effort than it should've, and groaned. He had, again, forgotten that the consequences of consuming enough food for three men and half a bottle of wine equated to a killer headache and wavering promises of regurgitation. 

At least, that was to be expected for normal monsters. He was convinced that the way-too-chipper skeleton in the doorway was a different kind of ‘monster’ entirely. Was he being this enthusiastic on purpose? Asgore wouldn't put it past him.

“How aren't you hungover?” Mumbled the king. He sat up and yawned, tainting the air with a good dose of morning breath, and scrubbed the sleep from eyes. “What time is it?”

“Noon,” Sans answered, “and I am hungover, I'm just way better at dealing with it than you are.”

“Noon?” The goat repeated, tossing back the covers and standing up. “Gee, I need to get ready for the day! I'm supposed to retrieve Captain Undyne’s quarterly reports!” He took a step and his vision danced. Sans was at his side, pressing boney hands gently into his rumpled clothes to keep him still. The guidance was appreciated.

“How ‘bout you slow down a little?” He suggested. “One of your maids is cookin’ brunch for ya. She sent me in here with some water and aspirin.”

Asgore smiled as he took a seat on the edge of his bed, accepting the aforementioned items from Sans. If his vision wasn't swimming, he would've seen the mischief in the shorter monster’s expression. “Thank you very much. I appreciate it...gck!!”

The skeleton cracked up, doubled over in laughter as his majesty spat out the vodka in the glass. It was too early for this; he had just woken up! Despite that, however, what pained him more was how much louder everything seemed to become when hungover. The laughing monster was only making his headache worse.

“Betrayed by my dearest friend!”

“Heh. Couldn't pass it up, sorry.” he grinned, zero remorse in his words.

Asgore pursed his lips, which felt painfully dry. “What's next? I'll bet this aspirin is really just chalk.”

“Ohhh, that's a good one for next time. I'm gonna keep that in mind.”

The king rolled his eyes and held out the glass. “Will you bring me real water, please? You should be nice to the man that controls your taxes.”

“Yeah, yeah, I gotcha.” Sans nodded, still smiling as he carried the drink away to swap it out. When he returned, Asgore made him taste it first before accepting it. “Welp, aside from the help sending me here with aspirin, I also swung in to tell you I’m gonna go. Some of us aren't royalty and have to work for a living.”

“You? Work? I thought the only thing on your résumé was ‘lazy’.” The boss monster joked, watching the shorter male’s iris glow blue. “Give Papyrus my greetings.”

“Heh, you assume I was motivated enough to _make_ a résumé. See ya later, your Highness.” he replied with a nod, and in a blink he was gone.

Asgore looked at the space Sans had been occupying for a moment, then smiled and shook his head. He cringed afterwards, for that only made his head pound worse. “Another eventful weekend, I'd say.” He mumbled aloud, then set out to start his duties. Even though the king was irritable and really not in the mood to perform any royal duties that day, he carried them out with a smile. 

Being royalty wasn't all bad, he supposed, not when he had subjects like Sans to befriend.


	2. Chapter 2

Sans teleported into the kitchen with a small grunt. Moving through rips in space was significantly harder when hungover, but it was worth it to see Papyrus jump up on the counter and shriek like a woman when he appeared, bits of spaghetti flying from the pot when he jerked away. His bright pink apron fluttered with the movement.

“AHHH, SANS!!” He cried, defensively wielding a spoon. “Don't do that, you frightened me!”

“Sorry, Paps,” Sans smiled, “I wanted to get home in time to eat your spaghetti before work. Looks like I made it.”

The taller skeleton narrowed his eyes as he climbed off the counter, crossing his arms over his chest. “I don't think you deserve my spaghetti! You didn't read me a bedtime story last night because you weren't allowed to come home; you had to do it over the phone!”

The other monster’s smile wavered, chastised. “I know. I'm sorry, Papyrus.” He extended his arms for a hug. “It wasn’t my fault… I'll read you two bedtime stories tonight, I promise.”

Papyrus clicked his teeth together and stared at the other male a moment. “...three.”

“Deal. Forgive me?”

“I suppose. C’mere, brother!”

Sans wrapped his arms around his brother’s neck, bracing for the inevitable. Papyrus hugged him tight and lifted him into the air, spinning around in circles with a loud “nyeh heh heh!” right into the side of his skull. What once was a dull headache had now blossomed into a migraine.

“Bro, please.” The shorter skeleton pleaded, burying his face into the frilly apron. “I'm hungover, I can't spin around right now.”

Papyrus spun faster.

“Bro, no.”

“Nyeh heh, maybe you should drink less, Sans!”

“You say that like I'm, hrrr...like I'm an alcoholic - Paps I'm gonna vomit.”

The skeleton showed some mercy and set him back on the ground. Sans felt his knees buckle and clutched the counter for support, willing last night’s food and drink to stay down. 

He was glad the only thing he had to do today was sentry duty, because it required, literally, the least amount of concentration ever. Getting paid to sit in a small wooden station and do nothing else for six hours was his dream job. He was surprised Papyrus had taken up sentry duty as well, considering he was the epitome of Restless Leg Syndrome. Papyrus just _needed_ things to do, and that alone should've deterred him from the position, but he applied and got it anyway. For a first job, though, Sans was glad his little brother had chosen something simple; he wished he wasn't so adamant on working anyway, insisting that he made enough to support them both, but it couldn't be helped once the taller monster got an idea in his head.

“When you're done holding yourself upright for dear life, brother, your plate is on the table.” the male chirped, striding past him. Sans really should've stopped at three glasses of wine. He was about to shuffle to the table when Papyrus spoke again.

“I can't wait to start my very first job with you! We're going to build so many puzzles together!”

Sans stopped, confused.

“...what?”

“Puzzles!” The monster smiled at him. “What, did you think I wasn't going to make you overachieve, brother? I can't stand around for eight hours a day!”

“Six…six hours.” Mumbled Sans, feeling sick again. Was his brother really going to make him build in this condition?

“Overachievers work for eight!”

“Please no.”

“Sans, you're being silly. This will be so much fun!”

The shorter male shook his head, a bad move on his part since it only made his vision swim. “Can we do it tomorrow? When I'm not suffering a horrible migraine?”

Papyrus stood up and walked out of the room, returning with a bottle of aspirin and some water. “No excuses!!”

Sans looked between his little brother and the medicine, silent a moment. He let go of the counter and fell to the floor with a dramatic groan. “Papyrus, nooo.”

“Brother.”

“You're cruel. I'm hungover.”

“Whose fault is that!?”

“The king’s.”

“Exact- wait, no!”

Sans yawned. “I'll build a puzzle tomorrow. I really just wanna sit. And maybe nap.”

“You sit and nap everywhere!” Papyrus said, and scooped the slightly shorter skeleton into his arms and carried him upstairs to the bathroom. “But I suppose I can let it go just for today, lazybones; now hurry up and brush your teeth while I get you clean clothes and put your spaghetti in some tupperware!” He set him down and nudged him in front of the sink, then closed the door. “You're setting a really bad example for your little brother, you know!”

Sans grinned at that as he picked up his toothbrush. “Nah, I swear if you weren't a skeleton no one would know we were brothers. You're so cool and energetic.”

“I know,” said Papyrus, before walking away, “maybe some of my greatness will rub off on you!”

“Maybe.” Sans mumbled, mostly to himself, and started the water.

 

• • •

 

Being friends with Captain Undyne of the Royal Guard had its perks, as convincing her to hire the two of them was very easy. She showed the boys where they would be working and Sans immediately plopped down in his station with a sigh, leaning his arms against the surface and looking idly at the bridge leading to the tall, purple doors he was in charge of watching over. He took some time to contemplate the structure as Undyne lead Papyrus away to his own station:

No one had ever been able to open the doors, not even with magic, and many wondered what was on the other side. Sans didn't know _what_ , but he did have a small aspect of _who_. Knocking idly against them one day had resulted in meeting one of his favorite people.

He didn't know what she looked like, of course, because the doors wouldn't open, but the woman on the other side gave off a very motherly vibe. She was incredibly kind, and loved puns just as much as Sans did, if not more. He could talk to her for hours (hell, sometimes he did), but even though they were friends she seemed averse to the idea of making more. She never told him her name, either, which he respected. _“You're obviously on that side for a reason,”_ he remembered saying to her, _“I'm betting it's a pretty good one.”_

He'd pay her a visit the next time he had a day off, he decided. In the meantime, he'd do his job, which consisted of watching for signs of a human. 

Well, he’d been watching at first, picking idly at the pasta without appetite, but inevitably decided to spend his break napping. A few hours later, Sans was jostled awake by Papyrus lifting him into his arms.

“You lazybones!! It's a good thing a human hasn't come by, or you might've had a bad time!” he scolded, beginning to walk home. “And you didn't even finish your spaghetti!” He nodded his head towards the neglected Tupperware container still resting in his station, but elected to retrieve it at a different time.

The male huffed, plucking at Papyrus’ scarf. “I don't have bad times, bro. I give them out.” He looked up at the other skeleton. “Did you like your first day having a real job?”

“I did!” He declared excitedly. “When you are in a better state of health, I want to show you my puzzles, brother! They are very clever!!”

“How many did you make, Pap?”

“Four! I'm quite proud of them, Nyeh heh heh!” He beamed, thrusting his chest out. Sans almost fell out of his arms.

“Oh yeah? Were they quite _puzzling_ to construct?”

“Actually no, I had a few hiccups, but -” Papyrus stopped walking as he registered the pun, then promptly dropped his older brother in the snow and stepped over him. 

Sans rolled over with a grin. “There's _snow_ way you can just leave me here. That's cruel.”

“Your puns are cruel!” He cried, still walking. “And on my first day of work, too! I was banking on a peaceful day!”

“ _Banking?_ Sorry, bro, there's not a chance in that.” 

Papyrus squealed in agony, realizing what he'd accidentally done. “I hate youuuuu!” He took off in a dash for home, and Sans picked himself up and brushed the snow away with a chuckle.

“Love you, too.” He hummed, walking casually after him.


	3. Chapter 3

“I apologize, Sans. I don't actually hate you.”

“Oh, good. I was worried.” The skeleton smirked, kicking his shoes off as he stepped through the door. “What're you doing?”

“Feeding your pet rock. You're very neglectful, Sans!” Papyrus said, shaking some sprinkles on top of the inanimate piece of stone.

“Ah. Guess you could say -”

“NO!”

“But -”

“No more puns!!”

“I was just gonna -”

“Saaaans!”

The shorter male shrugged and smiled. “Alright, alright.”

“Thank you.” Said Papyrus, turning away to begin dinner in the kitchen. 

“It's obvious you don't share my _sediment_ for quality humor.”

The taller monster’s scream was delicious, even if it brought back his headache. “Go to your room!!”

“You can't reprimand your older sibling, that's not how it works.” He chuckled. Papyrus stomped up to him and he was suddenly reminded of the fact that he only came up to his sternum. Looking up, eye lights met eye lights, and he smiled cheekily. “Though maybe you can, beanstalk.”

“Shortstack.” Came the automatic response, and Sans was thrown over his brother’s shoulder. He ragdolled, accepting his fate while Papyrus began walking upstairs. “You will eat all by your lonesome tonight! Unless you apologize -”

“I'll never apologize for having a killer sense of humor.” He blurted, scandalized. “I'm so good I knocked your skin clean off!”

“We never had skin in the first place!!” Said the younger male, opening the door and depositing Sans in his bed. The room was a mess, but both monsters had become desensitized to it at this point. Not even Papyrus the germ-phobe would touch the self-sustaining trash tornado in the corner. “You may only come out to use the restroom and read me the three promised bedtime stories!” he said sternly.

Sans didn't complain. Papyrus was literally giving him an excuse to lie around and do nothing, two of his favorite pastimes. With a thumbs up and an audible wink, he grinned up at Papyrus. “Kay. I'll be sure to wallow in my guilt.”

“You’re sure wallowing in something, brother. Those sheets haven't been changed in weeks…also I'm beginning to think this isn't a real punishment for you.” 

“What tipped you off?”

“Oh, you know, the lack of an argument, the wink and smile, the fact that you love being lazy, nothing too obvious.” The other said sarcastically. “Maybe I'll put you to work instead.”

“Nooooohohoo!” Sans cried, trailing off into laughter. Papyrus laughed a little, too, and nudged him with a foot. “I’ll be good, don't make me do chores!”

“You'd better, mister! One more pun and you'll be running the vacuum, nyeh heh heh!!” Threatened the younger sibling. Any semblance of scolding left the conversation as the two dissolved into giggles and quiet chuckling. 

 

Despite the earlier events, Papyrus retrieved Sans for dinner. The brothers sat in relative silence on the couch, bowls of soup in their laps, and exchanged casual commentary over an MTT program until it was time for bed. 

“You want me to read Fluffy Bunny three times?”

“Yes!”

“Feels kind of _read_ -dundant, but okay.”

There was agony swimming in Papyrus’ eyes. Sans wore nothing less than a shit-eating grin.

“...I'm going to let you read to me three times. And then I'm gonna ask you to leave.”

“That's fair. Once upon a time…”


	4. Chapter 4

The week was a tedious one, and Sans was glad to see it coming to a close. He envied his brother’s free time, as having three places of employment didn't grant him that luxury.

Part of Sans was glad that Papyrus was out of the house and being productive - he was often in the house by himself and spent time either cooking or cleaning, so now he had something else to do - but the rest of him was actually a little upset. His baby brother wasn't a baby anymore, and he hadn't been for a while. He wasn't the little boy he'd been forced to raise by himself, he was an adult with a job. 

He was still wearing the battle body Sans made for him for Halloween every day, but he was still an adult with a job! He was proud that his little sibling was maturing. 

“Sans, d-did you find the wrench?”

The skeleton was pulled from his thoughts as his boss called for him. He turned, the requested object in hand, and dropped it into the claws of a yellow lizard monster. 

“Right here, Alph.” He hummed, watching her add and remove a few bolts and screws from the machine she was working on. “What is this for, again?”

“You c-can feign ignor-rance with everyone else, Sans,” she huffed, eyes trained on her work, “b-but I see past your lazy f-façade! You figured out th-this was a r-regulator for the Core b-before I even hired you! You’re smart and a h-hard worker!”

“Yes, look at all the work I'm doing.” He smirked, pointedly standing there and staring at her with his hands in the pockets of his lab coat. The skeleton’s I.D badge jostled slightly as he shifted his weight to one foot. “If I had as much potential as you claim, I'd be a scientist like you. Not someone running a hot dog stand.”

“You can b-be a scientist.” Alphys assured him. “Asgore used to h-have multiple Royal Scientists b-before I came around! It could be l-like that again!”

It was a good thing she was turned around, because the monster would've seen him cringe at those words. “Nah. Less work on the sidelines.” He said, holding out the power drill before she could ask him for it. “I like doing the least amount of work possible.”

She took the drill from him with a skeptical look. “Y-you have three jobs. Two of them are f-full time.”

“Three of the easiest jobs in the underground, and I've snagged every weekend off in all of ‘em.”

“Still.” she said. The loud whir of the drill filled the air for a few moments before she sat back on her heels, wiping a clawed hand across her forehead. “Okay, I think that's it f-for today.”

“Cool.” Sans turned and shrugged off his lab coat, draping it on the back of a chair that wasn't holding a stack of manga or empty instant noodle containers. Geez, Alphys was worse than him, he realized. Papyrus would have an aneurysm if he saw the state of the lab. 

Despite the air conditioning trying its best to fend off the warmth of Hot Land, the skinless monster felt beads of sweet forming on his skull. He turned and helped Alphys put her tools away, then headed for the door. His shoes made a pleasing ‘clink’ against the metallic floor as he walked. “See ya later, boss.”

“I'm n-not your boss, Sans, we're p-partners.” She called after him. “B-but don't go yet, I h-have your pay!”

The skeleton turned, confusion in the lights of his eyes. “Payday isn't ‘till next Friday.”

“I'm t-taking next week o-off, which m-means you won't need t-to come in. I w-wanted to give it to you e-early.” She explained, approaching him with a small bag of gold. “Here you go.”

Sans took it with a smile. “Hey, thanks, Alph. You're a good friend.”

“F-friend?”

“Hmm,” he pocketed the money, “yeah? Isn't that what we are?”

The poor lizard looked like she'd never been asked that question in her life. Sans wondered how true that statement was as he watched her shuffle her feet. 

“Hey, if you don't want -”

“D-do you like anime??” She blurted. Sans blinked.

“I know what it is,” he said, gesturing to the scattered VHS tapes lying about, “but I've never seen it.”

In a flash, it was like the woman had changed. She shifted from shy, professional Royal Scientist to energetic, fluttery teenager. 

“Oh man, you've never seen _any_ anime?! I've got loads of series we could watch together! And ramen! Do you like ramen? Lots of the characters in the shows eat it all the time! You should come over one weekend and we can binge watch one and eat popcorn and soda and…” On and on she rambled, and Sans just watched her in silent awe. This is the most he's ever heard her speak at one time, and not a single stutter left her lips. 

“S-so, do you wanna come over some time?” She asked, bouncing eagerly on her heels. Suddenly the switch flipped again, and she was back to being his timid, scientific coworker. “I m-mean, you don't have to if you d-don’t want to. I'll underst-stand. Nobody really hangs out w-with me so I'm used -”

“Yeah.” He said, interrupting what he was sure was going to be a self-deprecating rant. “I'll come. Is next weekend okay? I already got plans with Paps and the King, so -”

“Y-yeah, of course! Wow, you're hanging out with Asgore??” She said, all too happy to nudge him out the door, now. “H-have fun! Oh, here's my number! I'll t-text you! Bye, Sans!”

She shut the door in his face and he waved at it with a smirk. “Bye, Alph.”

He teleported home to shower, happy that it was Friday. Working at least fourteen hours a day, five days a week, performing three different jobs was ridiculously draining, but it was worth it.

As he arrived in the living room, successfully startling Papyrus into screeching and dropping something yet again, he knew it would always be worth it.


	5. Chapter 5

“Do you think His Majesty will like my spaghetti?”

“I think he'll love it, Paps.”

“Do you think the glitter was too much?”

“Heh, nah. Fluffybuns loves sparkly things.”

“I don't think the King appreciates you calling him that, brother.”

“Dunno what you mean, that's his favorite nickname.”

The skeleton brothers continued to exchange idle banter as they passed the guards posted at the gate, who'd long since been instructed to let them through. Once they reached the door, Sans rapped twice on the elegant wood, carved with the Royal Family’s insignia. 

Asgore opened up with a smile as he looked down at the two. “Howdy! Come on in!”

“You're supposed to say ‘who's there’, but I guess that works, too.” Sans said, which was the same thing he always said when the goat monster didn't respond correctly to a knock-knock joke. As they stepped inside, Papyrus giddily held up the container of pasta.

“I brought you a gift, your highness!” He said. “It's always customary to bring someone a gift when you visit their home, but Sans never does that so this is from both of us!”

“Why, thank you, Papyrus, Sans.” Asgore grinned, accepting the gift and opening the lid to peer inside. “...It's very sparkly.”

“Sans said you like sparkly things! What better thing to have than sparkly spaghetti??” he explained. Sans hid a mischievous snicker behind his coat sleeve, masking the noise with a cough. “Please try some!”

“I will,” said the king, shooting a knowing glance the elder brother’s way as they strode towards the living area. He'd heard stories of Papyrus’ famous, completely inedible spaghetti over the years. Every so often Sans would update him on changes that would be made to it:

_”Yeah, Paps realized that not all oil is meant for food. I'm glad he stopped taking it out of the pipes.”_

_“Today he tried to use chocolate chips. They were the only edible part.”_

_“He finally figured out that noodles on fire are not good noodles. I'm proud of ‘im.”_

_“I almost overdosed on candle wax the other day. I thought Paps had made some sort of special sauce, but it was just straight up candle wax.”_

Needless to say, the King was tempted to inform the guards that, should he meet his end today, it was not a deliberate assassination. 

“Please make yourselves at home. I'll bring out some tea.” He said, vanishing into the kitchen to warm up the food.

Papyrus sat down on the couch and Sans plopped down beside him, putting his feet on the coffee table. 

“Brother!” He nearly screeched, kicking his legs away. “At least _pretend_ to have manners! We're visiting our king!”

“You just gave sparkly spaghetti to our king. Did you remember to use edible glitter this time?” he asked.

“Of cour- uhhhhh…”

Silence permeated the air, and then Papyrus darted after Asgore. “YOUR HIGHNESS, DO NOT EAT THE GIFT SPAGHETTI! I HAVE ACCIDENTALLY MADE IT INEDIBLE!”

Sans smiled and sank further into the couch cushions. He'd discreetly double-checked to make sure it really was edible glitter, but there was still no need to subject Asgore to Papyrus’ cooking right now. The king returned with a tea tray and shot him a thankful look, and he grinned back.

 

• • •

 

The goat monster was elated to have company. It was often much too quiet, the atmosphere too strained and lonesome within these intricate walls. Having Sans and Papyrus drop by to exchange meaningless chatter was relieving.

He didn't miss the fondness in Sans’ eyes as he watched his brother animatedly describe his week, body relaxed and one leg crossed over the other. A small smile rested on his face, making the hard edges of his skull soften.

“Honestly, I don't know why I had to spend so much time convicting Sans that The Great Papyrus is more than capable of work!” He babbled on, but there was no annoyance behind his words. He was simply stating facts. “I am a perfect Sentry, nyeh heh heh! When a human comes, I will be outstandingly prepared to capture them!”

Asgore kept his face calm, the smile on his face unfaltering, but his soul still gave a painful lurch at those words. A memory of two children entered his thoughts, one of his own blood and the other happily integrated into the family, before he pushed it to the back of his mind. “I have no doubt you will do your best, Papyrus. Thank you for your service.” He said smoothly.

“I'll have to do enough work for two Sentries, since lazybones over here slept his first day on the job!” He huffed indignantly, waving his hand in a way that almost made him spill his tea. Sans smiled and shrugged.

“Hey, I was hungover. It's Fluffybuns’ fault.”

“I hope the members of my Council or any of the Royal Guard never hear you call me that.” Asgore sighed, resigned to it at this point. “I apologize. If I'd known you had to work the next day, I wouldn't have insisted on the wine.”

“Nah, I had a good time.” He hummed, uncrossing his leg. His gaze turned to the fireplace a moment before changing the subject. “Hey, Pap, you should tell His Majesty about the puzzles you built.”

The taller skeleton’s eyes lit up, and he opened his mouth to begin describing them when Sans’ grin widened.

“You're so good at making ‘em you're _on fire_. You really _blazed_ through the process and there's no _crackles_ in the designs.”

Papyrus closed his eyes and clutched his chest as if in pain. “Brother, please, not in front of the king.”

“Right. Wouldn't want to make a _royal_ fool of myself.” he winked.

“I wish we weren't related sometimes.”

“Hey, we may not be flesh and blood siblings -”

“Graaaah!” Papyrus cried, clapping his hands over Sans’ mouth. Both winced, bone clacking against bone a painful experience, but the older of them didn't say anything more. “My sincerest apologies, King Asgore! Sans thinks he is funny for some reason and I cannot possibly fathom why!”

“I do not mind.” The monster smiled, eyes full of humor. “My wife used to make puns all the time. It certainly got a rise out of other subjects.”

The two skeletons looked at him, one in sympathy and the other in careful interest. Asgore hardly ever mentioned his marriage, which was understandable considering he was now alone. Whether he was simply separated or a widower was a mystery, even to the horned monster.

“So, she was a _punny_ gal?” Sans asked as Papyrus withdrew his hands. The look he received from his brother was nothing short of a silent reprimand. He could feel the mental lecture beginning and could only shrug in response. “What? That one was good.”

Asgore, thankfully, didn't take offense. “She was. I believe the two of you would've gotten along very well.”

“Knowing that someone else shares your passion for homonyms is nothing short of nightmarish, brother.” Papyrus said, lifting his arms as a sign of defeat before reaching for more tea. “May we change the subject, now, before I contemplate the excommunication of my kin?”

“Sure.” Said Asgore, thoroughly amused. “May I ask why you prefer spaghetti over other culinary dishes?”

“Oh, that's easy! You see…”

 

Conversation continued for a while, the mood considerably lighter now. Topics switched from food to hobbies to funny stories; Sans didn't speak much, but that wasn't new, even when it was just Asgore and himself. He really was content to just be there (and throw in some puns when the setup was right).

“Once, that annoying dog stopped by and ate all of my spare bones! I had them hidden away in a locked cupboard, so how he even got in there is a mystery!” Papyrus cried. “And then he somehow cut off the electricity! It took half an hour for Sans to get the lights back on!”

“It was really,” The other male said, leaning away from Papyrus before he could grab him, “de- _light_ -ful.”

The taller skeleton slumped and his head fell into Sans’ lap, defeated. Sans stroked his skull comfortingly.

“Are you done? Are you overloaded yet?” 

“Brother, I was done forty-five minutes ago.” Came the muffled response. “I can't take anymore.”

“Alright, alright, I concede.” The monster smiled and raised his head, eye lights meeting amber orbs. “We may have to go home, Asgore. I think I broke Papyrus.”

The king shook his head. “That is unfortunate. I hope he is fixed soon.” He chuckled. “It is late, though, and we've been talking for hours. Would you like to have dinner before you depart?”

“Yes!” Blurted Papyrus, sitting upright again. “I mean, yes, please, Your Majesty.”

“Asgore is fine. You do not need to be so formal with me.” The goat monster said. “What would you like?”

“Here it comes.” Said Sans.

“Do you, by chance, have spaghetti?”

“There it is.”

The king stood up and nodded. “I do. Would you like to help me in the kitchen, Papyrus?”

There were stars in the male’s eye sockets. He jumped up and nodded so fast his cervical vertebrae started popping. “Yes!”

“Sans?”

The shorter skeleton looked up. “Hmm?”

“Would you like to help?” Asgore inquired, extending a hand invitingly. Sans looked at his fuzzy paw for a moment before shrugging. 

“Sure.” He said, and grasped it. His fur was warm, he noted, as he helped him stand. “Don't expect any stellar participation, though. I'll probably nap in the pot.”

“Please don't, you did that at home once and we almost couldn't get you out.” Papyrus pleaded. Sans grinned.

“No promises.” He hummed.


	6. Chapter 6

True to his word, Sans was of very little help in the kitchen. Twice he disappeared, only to be found napping in completely indescriminate places; once in the fridge, nursing a bottle of ketchup, then in the pot, which angered Papyrus. Eventually it was decided by his brother and the king that he should find other ways to entertain himself until the food was done, and so he moseyed around the palace. 

Idly he explored, occasionally running into some of Asgore’s servants and greeting them. They were all very nice people that he'd gotten to know over the few years he'd befriended His Majesty. As he walked, he paused a minute to speak to one of the women, a white owl named Dolly who always tried to pinch his cheek.

“Good day?” he asked.

“Great day,” she answered, looking past her beak at him, “caught three mice hidden in the walls today! They were delicious.”

Sans smiled, prepared to make a pun, but she knowingly shushed him. “As funny as you are, sugar, I've got to go. The king doesn't pay me to do nothing, after all! See you around!” She said, reaching up and trying to pinch the bone in vain, before heading off the way he’d come from. 

“I know those little bones are more malleable than that! I’m gonna pinch a cheek soon.” she called. Her talons clicked on the floor as she walked and he turned to continue on his journey with a grin.

The male reached the guest room he usually slept in when he spent the night and debated napping in there until dinner, silk sheets and fluffy pillows calling enticingly to him, but his curiosity kicked in so he kept on. Despite spending many nights in New Home, he'd never taken the time to really explore the entirety of Asgore’s estate. It wasn't that he was forbidden from it (he thinks), he had just never thought to look around.

Sans opened the doors of other rooms, poking his head in to see what they were. The layout was synonymous in every one: a queen-sized bed, two large dressers on either side, an en-suite bathroom, and a large wardrobe. The walls were all a soft purple color and the carpet was a darker shade; it was warm and inviting, much like the king himself. Purple seemed to be a theme for him, the skeleton noted, for it was the main color he and the help always wore on their clothing.

The monster exited another guest room and walked up to the last door at the end of the hall. This one was bigger than the others, but it wasn't Asgore’s room because he was in a separate corridor. Reaching out to open it, he found that the knob wouldn't give. It was locked.

“Ooo, secrets.” Sans joked to himself, dropping his hand. “Everyone has them, I suppose.” 

Further meandering ended up much the same. Instead of guest rooms, he found utility closets or storage rooms or other boring things, until he rounded a corner and discovered another big door at the end of its own hallway. The eeriness of it did not escape him. Taking a chance, he walked to the door and pushed it open, discovering the throne room.

Or, he thought it was the throne room. There was, indeed, a throne in there, but it was absolutely surrounded by hundreds and hundreds of yellow flowers. They covered the entirety of the floor, save for a small path leading to the seat, and lush, green vines covered every wall. The brightness of the room almost hurt Sans’ eyes, but he was too interested to look away.

“Why so many?” He mumbled, carefully walking the path so as not to trample on the plants. “Why all yellow?”

He stopped in the center of the room, tracing a skeletal finger over the arm of the throne and admiring its craftsmanship. Its cushions were a deep purple (surprise, surprise), and the frame was silver. Within the arms and legs were intricate carvings of vines and other floral decoration. It was beautiful. 

He was busy running a hand over the velvety seat when he finally sensed it; on the other side of the room, beyond two doors bearing the same vines on the walls, was _immense_ power, so immense it made him take a step back. It felt oppressive and...wrong. Invasive. What was beyond those doors? What was emanating that much energy?

“Are you alright?” Asgore’s voice reached him and Sans quickly spun to face him, feeling like someone who'd just gotten caught breaking and entering. His startled expression was met with one of neutrality.

“Yeah,” he said, glancing back before walking on the path towards the king, “I got bored. Wanted to explore your place.”

“I see.” The goat monster answered, smiling. There was nothing in his eyes that told Sans he should be wary of him or the power beyond the room, but it felt more like empty reassurance than anything. “Well, I can give you and Papyrus a proper tour after we eat, if you'd like.”

“I think I should take Paps home after dinner, sorry.” said Sans, eager to leave the room of flowers. “Unless you've got a copy of Peek-A-Boo -”

“With Fluffy Bunny?” He guessed. “I do, I think it's in my son’s old room.”

Well, Sans couldn't really deny him there. The skeleton nodded and gestured for him to walk. “After you.”

They left the room and walked in silence. The farther away they got, the better the shorter monster felt; he hadn’t realized how stressed out he was in there. Asgore lightly touched his shoulder and he looked up at him.

“Y’need somethin’?”

“No, I just wanted to make sure you're really alright.” He said, dropping his hand. “You didn't open the doors on the other end of the room, but I know you could feel strong magic on the other side. Sometimes it's very...uncomfortable to sense. If at any point, you feel weak or need to sit, let me know.”

“I'm confused.” Sans said. “What's on the other side of those doors that I'd need to be so worried about?”

The King’s face was carefully blank as he answered, “the Barrier.”

 

•••

 

“There you are, lazybones! I can't believe we had to send a mini search party for you!” Papyrus exclaimed, running into them in the main hall. “Come and eat! The spaghetti is good, despite not having any sprinkles, or garlic, or edible glitter, or icing, or broth, or -”

“I'm sure it's good, Paps, just because you helped.” Sans quickly interrupted, and the three of them entered the dining room. Some of the help was already seated around the table, enjoying some of the pasta from a large pot resting in the middle. “Geez, how long was I gone? You made enough to feed the entire palace.” 

“That was the point!” Papyrus beamed, offering him a plate. “Also, about an hour and a half. Where did you go, brother?”

“Uh, kinda everywhere.” He said, accepting the pasta and sitting down. There weren't many seats left so he was positioned next to Asgore. “The palace is big.”

“And you just wandered around without permission!? Sans, when you raised me to have manners, did you transfer them all to me, too!?” The taller skeleton asked. “I'm sorry on his behalf, your Majesty!”

“Oh, don't be.” Asgore smiled. “I'm always delighted to share my home. Would you like to look around, too?”

Papyrus hesitated, then nodded. “If you're offering, of course!”

The issue was settled, then. Sans ate the spaghetti with a smile, content in the knowledge that it was entirely edible and made by someone that wasn't his little sibling, and accompanied Asgore and Papyrus after putting the empty plate in the sink.

The taller skeleton was very enthusiastic about the tour, asking many questions that Asgore patiently and happily answered in return. They walked everywhere, even to a few places Sans hadn't gotten to see yet. A part of him had figured Asgore couldn't fit inside a regular bath tub, but to have an entire bathhouse just for the purpose of getting clean seemed a bit much. He was fond of the library, though. It was smaller than the Librarby in Snowdin, but still held a lot of content inside.

“What's down there?” Inquired Papyrus, pointing to the door leading to the throne room. Sans’ protective side surfaced and he quickly reached up and took his brother’s hand, steering him away. Now that he'd been introduced to the power of the Barrier, he was hyper-aware of the energy it radiated. Even now he could feel it this far away, but only just so.

“S’locked, I checked.” He lied smoothly. Asgore gave him a curious look that he returned with a subtle frown. 

He didn't want Papyrus to go near the thing responsible for keeping every monster trapped in the Underground, not if it would mess him up with the same oppressive magic that weighed Sans down earlier. He wouldn’t admit it, but experiencing a force like that without even seeing it had thrown him off. 

“Have you seen Fluffybuns’ room? His bed is gigantic. I think it's a California King.” he said, abruptly changing course. “And if you wanna spend the night, there's a billion guest rooms.”

“Sans, even the palace isn't big enough for a billion rooms!” Papyrus chided, blissfully ignorant to the diversion. 

Problem averted, the older brother relaxed. “I guess you're right, Pap. Let's go for a trillion.”

“That's even _more_ than a billion! You're just being silly!”

“Sorry, I’m sorry. One hundred…”

“That seems closer to the actual amount -”

“...trillion.”

Papyrus scooped Sans up into his arms and glared playfully at him. “I'll shake you one hundred trillion times.”

“Tryin’ to _rattle_ my bones?” Sans smirked. “Take me to dinner first. Oh wait, you did! You're very forward, Pap.” He pointed to the left once they reached a fork in the hallway. “Asgore’s room is this way. The bed’s big enough for the three of us, wink wink.” 

“Sans, that's gross.” Papyrus said, looking up at the king. Asgore had been watching them exchange banter with nothing short of amusement, trying to hide his soft chuckles. “Don't encourage him, Your Highness. He'll never stop.”

“I don't need encouragement to keep going. Wink, wink, nudge, nudge.”

“Saying those actions doesn't make them happen, brother!”

“Do the two of you always do this?” Inquired the goat monster.

“Yes.” They both answered simtaneously, one with mirth and the other with exasperation. Asgore laughed outright and strode past them with a shake of his head, opening the door to his room. 

Sans wiggled out of Papyrus’ arms and walked inside. “See? Huge. And it's got a pretty canopy. This bed could hold twelve of me.”

“Well, you are small, Sans.” Papyrus smirked, walking in next to him. The room held the same purple walls and carpeting, but it was distinctly more lived in. There were two wardrobes instead of one, and a dusty vanity in the corner of the room. There were also two dressers, one on either side of the bed, and only one looked regularly used. The other was immaculate, untouched, and dusty like the vanity.

No one needed to guess who those used to belong to. To Asgore’s gratitude, neither of the skeletons mentioned it.

“Hey, I'm 5’8.” Sans weakly defended. “Just because the average monster is 6’4 doesn't mean anything. You n’ Asgore are giants.”

Just to be extra patronizing, Papyrus lifted a hand and patted Sans on the skull. Sans hissed and narrowed his eyes at him in mock anger.

“I like your room, your Majesty!” The taller skeleton declared, changing the subject. “It's very tidy, unlike my brother’s.”

“Thank you, Papyrus.” Asgore said. “Having hired servants is a nice help in terms of maintaining my home. Without them, I would probably be messy as well.”

“Is the pay good?” San asked over his shoulder, busy trying to climb up onto the king’s bed. It was stationed higher off the ground, providing the skeleton with a small challenge. He hoisted himself up by using one of the posts on the corner and sat down with a smile, messing idly with the lavender canopy.

“Why do you want to know?” Asked his younger sibling. “So you can get paid to sleep on the job somewhere else?”

He shrugged, mischief in his sockets. “Hey, these beds are comfy. It can't be helped if I happen to trip and fall under the covers.”

“I'm not currently looking for extra assistance, but I'll let you know if a position opens up.” Asgore smiled. “Did you want to walk around more?”

Papyrus opened his mouth to reply, but his words were stolen by a yawn. Sans hopped off the bed and walked to his side. 

“I think it's bed time.” The skeleton hummed.

“Sans, I'm not a child anymore!” whined the other male, but it was warped by another yawn.

“Yeah,” Sans said, “but you always tucked in early. D’you care if I set Paps up in a guest room, Asgore?”

The king shook his head. “Please do. I'll go find the book.”

 

•••

 

Thirty minutes later, Sans nudged the blanket up to Papyrus’ shoulders and idly brushed a thumb over his cheekbone, then quietly exited the room and shut the door. He turned, surprised to find Asgore leaning against the wall and looking at him. 

“Hey,” he said, keeping his voice down and holding out the borrowed copy of Peek-A-Boo with Fluffy Bunny, “thanks for letting us spend the night.” 

“You and your brother are always welcome in my home.” The King replied, accepting the book. “You're very protective of your younger sibling.”

Sans shrugged, walking past him to his own room. “He's my little brother.” A pause, then, “Well, not physically speaking.”

Asgore smiled. “No, I suppose he isn't. Whose height did he inherit? Your father’s? Your mother’s?”

“Nice try.” Sans smirked. “I’m not tired enough to grace that with a response.” 

The skeleton was a slelectively private person, his Majesty noticed. Every time he tried to ask about parents, or his youth in general, he was met with no results. He'd tried everything; from asking him dead-on, to trying to trick him into revealing answers, even to hiring a private investigator (who was, ironically, an aligator monster). Dead-on inquiries were countered with blatant refusal, trick questions were met with confusing riddles, and the investigator couldn't even find so much as a birth certificate. For all anyone knew, Sans and Papyrus just appeared out of nowhere one day, but Asgore was determined to discover otherwise.

“It was worth a shot.” The monster sighed. “I am unsure as to why you don't trust me, Sans. We've been friends for a few years, at least.”

“It isn't a matter of trust.” Sans said honestly, opening the door to his guest room and turning to look up at his king. “I just don't want to deal with your pity.”

“My pity?” Asgore repeated, confused. “Why would I pity you, Sans? Did you not have a positive childhood?”

“Goodnight, Asgore.” Said the skeleton, closing the door with finality. The goat monster continued to stare at the door for several long moments, then turned and walked away, resigned. 

At the end of it all, he couldn't really complain. He had secrets of his own, and if his friend were to discover them, he wasn't sure he could handle the hatred he would find burning in those eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooo, plot development!  
> I'm going somewhere with this, I swear. And it's probably predictable but I don't care lmao  
> If you haven't figured it out by now, you're going to see a lot of banter between Sans and Papyrus. I just really like writing Sans and Papyrus interacting with one another.  
> *casual reminder that this is not a Fontcest fic I swear*
> 
>  
> 
> Also extra note - I'm aware that Sans is SUPER short canonically, but a 4-foot-something Sans and an 8-foot-something Asgore doesn't really work out in the bedroom in my mind, you know? So, I made Sans average human height to compensate. He comes up to about Papyrus’ chest, now, and Asgore’s waist.


	7. Chapter 7

Sans woke up slow, the lingering sedation of sleep keeping him in fuzzy awareness before the scent of something delicious reached him. Sitting up, the blanket fell off his shoulders as he stretched and yawned, and he turned to find a plate of pancakes sitting on his dresser with a note:

_Howdy! You hadn't risen for breakfast, so I had a plate saved for you. Three meals a day is an important part of staying healthy! - Asgore_

On the other side, in tiny, immaculate capital letters, was Papyrus’ note.

_BROTHER, WHEN YOU FIND IT A SUITABLE TIME TO RISE FROM YOUR PRACTICE COMA, PLEASE LET ME KNOW. ALSO, PLEASE DO NOT DOUSE YOUR FLUFFY PANCAKES IN KETCHUP. THEY ARE NOT MEANT FOR KETCHUP. IN FACT, SEVENTY-FIVE PERCENT OF WHAT YOU EAT IS NOT MEANT FOR KETCHUP, YOU KNOW THIS. -PAPYRUS_

 

The skeleton snorted, amused but pleased. Now he wouldn't have to get food for himself. Taking the plate into his lap, he noticed the pancakes were still warm. Asgore and Pap must've only dropped them off a few minutes ago. He ate them leisurely, enjoying the syrupy breakfast, and then climbed out of bed.

Exiting the room with the dish in his hand, he walked in the direction of the kitchen. He knew Papyrus wasn't in his guest room because he was always up hours before Sans, so he passed it by. As expected, the taller monster was awake and about, chattering happily on his phone. Judging by the obnoxious yelling on the other end, he was talking to Undyne.

“You're finally up!” Papyrus declared when he spotted him, telling the fish woman to wait a moment. “And before noon! I am proud of you, brother!”

“Thanks.” He hummed, dropping the plate off in the kitchen before returning to him. He stuck his hands in the pockets of his jacket, shifting his weight to one foot. “You ready to go home?”

His brother nodded. “Whenever you're ready! I need to change and shower!” He said. “What? No, not you, Undyne, I was speaking to Sans! … Yes, I am also surprised he is awake before noon! …”

Leaving Papyrus to chat with Undyne and deeming it a little rude to just leave without saying goodbye, Sans wandered back down the halls to find the king. He wasn't in the living room, his bedroom, or out in the halls. Quick look-throughs also revealed that he wasn't in the bath house, the kitchen, or any of the guest rooms, leaving just one location left.

Sans turned the corner, looking down the hallway to the throne room with reluctance. Asgore wouldn't mind if he just left without parting words, but he was still the king of all monsters, and he owed him a little courtesy for hosting them. With these reasons in mind, Sans approached the doors and slowly pushed them open.

The brightness of the room was just as startling as it had been the first time he saw it. An ocean of yellow flowers greeted him, and across the large room, he could see Asgore hunched over with a watering can, various gardening tools scattered around him. He seemed oblivious to the heavy energy emanating from the doors on the far wall, and the skeleton reasoned that it was probably due to him having lived so close to the Barrier for so long. Sans stepped inside and approached, stopping a few feet away. 

“Hey.”

Asgore sat up in surprise, ramrod straight, and his expression clearly conveyed that of a startled creature. He wouldn't have been surprised to hear a bleat, but none came.

“Oh!” He cried, turning to face Sans. Once recognition set in, he relaxed again and chuckled. “Golly, Sans, you startled me! Did you sleep well?”

“Yep.” He said. “Paps n’ I are heading home soon. Came to say goodbye.”

“I don't very much like goodbyes.” The king said. He stood and brushed dirt from his paws and knees. “How about ‘see you later’?”

The shorter monster shrugged and offered a smile. “Sure. See you ‘round.”

“I hope so.” Said the goat. “Do not hesitate to call or drop by, you or Papyrus.” He leaned down to whisper conspiratorially in Sans’ skull, as if others could hear. “And thank you. Your brother is nothing short of wonderful, but I had… _concerns_ about spaghetti that glittered and smelled slightly of toothpaste.”

“Is _that_ what happened to the rest of my toothpaste?” the skeleton blinked, now genuinely amused. His natural grin widened and his shoulders shook in silent laughter. “It was no problem. Figured there was no need to make the head honcho clog his teeth with noodles and craft supplies.”

“I am in your debt.” The king chuckled, watching Sans wink at him and leave. He turned, kneeling before the flowers again and patting down the patch of fresh dirt he'd just dug at with his trowel. Reaching into a pouch fastened to his pants, he withdrew a seed and planted it with experienced care, then watered it. This new patch of golden flowers was going to be beautiful, he knew, and once finished, left the room with thoughts of his children.

Chara would've loved them.

 

•••

 

Sans was too lazy to teleport home, which Papyrus complained about the entirety of the walk back to Snowdin. The two of them walked side by side, exchanging idle banter as they exited HotLand and entered Waterfall.

“That's literally the laziest power you have, brother! Why wouldn't you want to use it?”

“Wasn't feelin’ it. Besides, you like it when I exercise.”

Papyrus couldn't argue that, and changed the subject instead. “Do you work tomorrow?”

“Monday through Friday, every week.” He replied nonchalantly. 

“Are you going to quit any of your jobs?”

Sans slowed his pace, taken off-guard by the inquiry. “Um...no?” He said. “There's bills to pay, Pap. I may be lazy, but even I'd rather pass out in a bed as opposed to the dump under Waterfall, y’know?”

The taller skeleton crossed his arms. “That's a bit dramatic, Sans. We can easily sustain ourselves with one job each!”

His brother was frowning, now. “Is this why you wanted a job so bad?” he asked. “You want me to quit one of mine?”

“As much as I don't condone quitting, even I can detect signs of an overworked skeleton! I see all, Sans, even without eyeballs, Nyeh heh heh!”

Sans kicked an obnoxious-looking rock, feelings mixed. “I thought you were just complaining about my laziness.”

“Don’t worry, I was!” He assured him, which made Sans smirk a little and roll his eyes. “You can be lazy on the job and still overwork yourself; especially if you work more than twelve hours a day.”

Papyrus stopped walking and reached out, grasping Sans’ hand. The shorter monster turned to meet his gaze. In the quiet of the moment, they could hear whispers fluttering from the echo flowers in the cave ahead of them. A memory of a conversation briefly entered his mind, consisting of crystals and starlight, before his brother spoke again.

“I worry about you, Sans.” Said Papyrus. “You aren't as great as _I_ am, so you need to put in more effort to do cool things, but I don't want you to work yourself sick.”

The other skeleton’s face softened. “...I'll think about it.” He promised. “I just -”

“I know.” He smiled reassuringly. “Me, too. But we can afford to relax, now!”

Papyrus drew Sans into his arms and Sans returned the embrace, sighing. For a short while they remained stagnant in each other’s arms, the solidity of themselves a comfort. Eventually, though, the shorter male grew antsy.

“...alright, this is my limit for going without a pun today.” He said, breaking away a minute later. “If we stay here too long I'll _drown_ in your affection.”

Papyrus wanted to shriek. Instead, he held his brother’s hand tightly and dragged him out of Waterfall at a brisk pace. “No!”

“C’mon, bro, don't _soak_ in all that anti-pun propa- _gondola_.”

“That was awful! We were having such a brotherly moment just now!”

“We were really _swimming_ in love, you could say.”

“We can't even swim! Our bones are too dense!!” He lowered his voice as they walked through the echo flowers so as not to undo the wishes murmured into their petals, and continued to scold Sans all the way home. “You are terrible, brother!”

“I love you, too.” He cooed sweetly after him, and let himself be dragged by the wrist back to Snowdin. Allowing Papyrus time to stew in pun-hating silence, he took a moment to juggle their conversation around in his mind.

Quit one of his jobs, huh? He kinda liked working, though. It was a way to stay busy, and gave him legally mandated periods of nap time that Papyrus couldn't complain about, heh...

Nah. He'd quit a job when he fainted in the middle of a shift, he thought sarcastically, and brushed the topic off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyyy, I'm back!
> 
> So, if anybody bookmarked/subscribed to the fic, first of all thank you so much omg, and second of all, updates will not appear at any regular interval/schedule, sorry.
> 
> I no longer have a beta because she is also in college and has a life haha, so everything here and on is just me. When I finish a chapter, I'll post it. I really appreciate you guys' patience with me! 
> 
> Wanna yell at me to update faster? Check out elainapoststhings on tumblr! I'll probably respond with an apology and a "yes sir!"


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sans works a lot.

Sans liked Mondays, mostly because he only had to run the hot dog stand. It was a nice, slow day, and he could fill the rest of it with other odd jobs and maybe a trip to Grillby’s if he felt like it.

“Does he collect tabs this week or next…?” He asked himself aloud, stepping behind his cart and flicking the sign in front of it to Open. Leaning against the counter, he fought a yawn and looked around Hot land with complacence. “Probably next week. I'll wait…”

The skeleton had begun visiting the flame monster’s bar a few months ago, interested in what was inside. Finding that he couldn't communicate with the bartender due to a language barrier, he taught himself Firespeak and befriended him quickly after. He couldn't speak it, though he tried, but he could understand Grillby and Grillby could understand him, so it didn't hinder them too much. He smiled at the memory of the elemental’s expression as he responded to a quip he'd made under his breath:

_”Honestly, for monsters known for their excellent hygiene, you'd think they would treat my bar with the same respect,” Grillby mumbled, referring to the canines of the Royal Guard, who were slobbering all over their booth and gnawing enthusiastically on their glasses._

_“Cut ‘em some slack, man. They're probably teething or something.” Sans had hummed at him._

_“Yes, well, they shouldn't - ...w-what!?”_

Now, the bartender wasn't capable of facial expression, but the way his flames grew bright white in shock, then purple in embarrassment, had sent Sans out of his stool in a fit of laughter. It was one of the best things he'd ever seen, and he knew he wanted more interactions with the elemental when he could grab them. The skeleton grinned wide at the memory, pulled from his thoughts by an armless child jumping excitedly in front of his cart.

“Hello!”

“Hi,” said Sans, who leaned back in his chair with a knowing smirk. “How you doin’, MK?”

Monster Kid smiled and swished his tail back and forth, looking expectantly at the older male.

“Good! I saw Undyne the other day! Isn't she so cool? Your brother thinks so! Man, Papyrus is cool, too, almost as cool as Undyne! He lifted me up on his shoulders the other day so I could peer into Undyne’s house and watch her karate chop a bunch of vegetables! And then she suplexed the pot, like _whoosh!_ Stuff went everywhere! And…”

“Mhmm…” Sans nodded along at all the appropriate points, greatly amused by the armless monster. MK had started visiting his hotdog stand about a month ago, asking him, first, if he could please feed him a hotdog, and second, if he was Papyrus’ brother. Once confirming their kinship, he hasn't stopped dropping by to narrate his tales to him (and anyone else within earshot) since. 

Sans didn't mind. On slow days, he enjoyed the company the child gave him. His mother liked their friendship, too, and had even paid Sans to babysit him a few times; Papyrus was _enthralled_ the days he slept over.

Monster Kid prattled on, bouncing side to side on his feet for emphasis at the “super duper awesome” parts, and Sans listened to him with a fond smile.

“...and then yesterday, I was running and I fell on my face, like this -” he stopped and reenacted the scene, deliberately falling to the ground and smashing his face into the concrete. Sans winced.

“Oh - are you okay?” He asked, standing to help him up, but MK was already on his feet again. It was impressive, considering he didn't have arms to push himself up with. “Geez, kid, you really spring back up.”

“Uh huh!” He beamed, panting slightly from exertion. He'd been speaking for twenty minutes now and only just stopped for a break. “Anyway, can I have a hotdog please?”

“Sure thing. S’why I'm out here,” said the skeleton, bending over to make the treat. “Do you have any plans for today?”

“Nope!” Chirped the child, using his tail to grab some money out of his shirt pocket and plop it on the counter. Sans grasped it and gave it back.

“Keep it. You gave me a good story, so it’s on the house.” A pause, then he reached over and nestled the hot dog between two spikes on Monster Kid’s head. “Actually, it's on your head.”

“Haha!” Laughed the child. “Thanks, Sans! I'm gonna go show my mom my new… _hat dog_!”

“Heh, nice.” The skeleton grinned, immensely pleased in his ability to pass down his sense of humor. He gave him a thumbs up, then a wave. “See ya later.”

MK turned and ran off. He tripped twice before he left Sans’ line of sight, but the hot dog miraculously stayed on his head. Humming tunelessly, Sans leaned back in his seat and relaxed, content to spend another few hours behind the cart.

 

•••

 

The rest of the day breezed by. Sans teleported his stand into the garage and made sure the inventory was still good, then went into the house for dinner. Judging from the lack of clattering pots and pans, he reasoned Papyrus wasn't home, and had to remind himself that he had his own job now, too.

“Leftovers it is,” he said aloud, and opened the fridge.

He closed it immediately after, nasal cavity viciously assaulted by containers of different spaghetti “recipes” shoved inside the refrigerator. Some of them were _horrifically_ rancid at this point, and if they weren't, then damn, he didn't know what on earth his brother could've done to make them smell so. He dearly wished Papyrus would taste his own pasta sometimes.

“What kind of monster doesn't eat the one food they repeatedly make for everybody else?” He mumbled to himself. His bones itched with hunger and he reasoned he could dwell on his sibling’s antics later, cleaning out the fridge with as much speed as he could summon at the moment, then making a sandwich.

Papyrus came home an hour later and offered to make Sans some spaghetti, who refused so quickly it make the taller skeleton raise a browbone.

“I already ate,” he said, backpedaling. “I'm too full for spaghetti right now, but thanks.”

“Whatever you say, brother!” Chirped Papyrus, who then started to make himself a sandwich. “Leftovers are in the fridge if you change your mind!”

“I know,” he said, face knit in brief horror before he schooled it back into a smile. He scooted over on the couch to allow Papyrus to sit next to him, flicking the television on with a wink of his eye.

“...the remote is?? Right??? In front of you, brother?? On the table?? An arm’s reach away????” 

“Yeah, didn't feel like reachin’ for it.”

“But… Magic takes more effort than moving your arm I….”

Sans patted him on the wrist with a gentle smile.

“I'm just...feeling really _disarmed_ right now, y’know?”

Papyrus, in that moment, perfected the thousand-yard stare.

 

•••

 

Tuesday was a little more hectic. Sans did as he promised and worked eight hours of sentry duty with Papyrus, building puzzles and watching in vain for a human to pass through. During his break, he snuck away through the thick of the trees and over the bridge to arrive before the purple doors, painted with the royal insignia. 

Sitting down in the snow, he leaned against the door and knocked twice.

“Who is there?” A familiar voice called on the other side.

“Canoe,” said Sans.

“Oh, Canoe who?”

“Canoe keep a secret?” 

The woman on the other side laughed. “It's not as if there are other visitors to spill secrets to, my child.” 

Despite the humor in her tone, Sans could hear her loneliness. It made the skeleton frown, shifting to press his side against the door. 

“Hey, you sayin’ if you _could_ spill my secret, you would? That's cruel, lady. I'm hurt,” he said. “You can't see it, but I'm totally clutching my heart in distress.”

“You are right. I'm quite _blind_ to your pain,” she giggled. “I apologize, my child. Did you actually have something to tell me?”

“Heh, nah. Not really,” he said, tracing shapes in the snow. “How’re you? Haven't spoken in two weeks.”

“I am well!” She replied. “You seem like a busy young man. I've noticed you yawning more, as of late. Are you getting enough rest?”

Sans was yawning as she spoke, cheekbones briefly dusting blue. “Yeah, m’fine. Heh, you sound like a doting mother.”

“Ah, forgive me,” she said. “I _was_ a doting mother, once.”

“What happened?”

“I…” Her voice grew soft. Sans had to press his skull against the door to hear her. “My children… They died.”

“Oh,” he said. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to -”

“No, no! It is alright!” the monster insisted. “I just miss them dearly, is all. I suppose my wasted, motherly potential is being projected unto you. I do apologize.”

Sans didn't have lips to bite so his mouth formed a thin line instead, shame washing over him.

“Hey, don't,” he said. “Don't be sorry. It happens, right? I shouldn't have asked. S’personal stuff.”

“I do not mind you asking the occasional personal question,” she replied. “If you still feel bad, however, you may tell me something about yourself in return, if you'd like.”

“Gee,” said Sans, rubbing the back of his skull. There really wasn't anything interesting he could tell her. He worked a lot to provide for his little brother - that was it, in his mind.

Silence stretched between them, growing slightly uncomfortable.

“Forgive me, that was a rude request -” the woman began, but was cut off when Sans hurriedly spoke.

“My growth was stunted in… an accident.”

It was the best he could come up with; how do you top “I’m lonely and my kids died?” The answer is, you don't, so Sans didn't try. 

“An accident?” Repeated the older monster. 

“Uh, yeah,” he said, shrugging. “I can't remember it very well, but that's probably a good thing. The, uh, vague version is that I was in a lab with my brother, and we were supposed to be given shots for...for, uh,” he paused, hand rotating mindlessly as he tried to get his phrasing correct. “A serum, I guess. Well, I didn't react too well to it, and now I'm doomed to be shorter than practically every monster in the Underground.”

“Sounds like you really got… _the short end_ of the deal,” piped the female. Sans could hear the cheeky grin in her voice and couldn't help but smile and laugh in response. 

He loved this. He loved that be could say as much or as little as he chose, and his reception stayed the same because she didn’t pity him. In turn, he gave her the same courtesy, no matter how often or minimally she spoke. 

They took each other in stride. Sans couldn't ask for more.

“Heh. Wow, I gave you some real tear-jerking stuff, and you're _stooping low_ with a joke?”

“There's no need to get _short_ with me, young man,” she teased.

“What can I say? I've got a _little_ fuse.”

“I'll bet. I hope that isn’t because you were stunted other places,” she sing-songed. Sans blurted out a surprised laugh, blushing bright.

“Haha, wow!” He cried, wiping a tear from his socket. “That cut me deep, old gal. I'm real hurt.” The skeleton shifted and pressed his back to the door, the last of his chuckles fading out. 

“You're a real funny woman, door lady.”

“Thank you,” she said. “You, too, are a true comedian.”

“Heh,” he said. “Since we aren't using real names, d’you mind if I supply one? Feels kinda rude just calling you ‘lady,’ y’know?”

“Yes, if you wish.”

Sans grinned.

“I gotta get back, my break’s over,” he explained, standing and stretching. His vertebrae popped as he yawned again, then stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Later, _Dooris_.”

It was like music to his skull, listening to her laugh long and bright as he walked away. It'd been a long time since he pulled that kind of joy from the lonely woman on the other side of the door. As he returned to his post, knowing that he had to run the hotdog cart and a last-minute babysitting job after this, he found it easier to deal with, knowing he'd made someone smile who really needed it.

 

•••

 

Wednesday and Thursday were long-winded for the skeleton monster. The Nice Cream rabbit needed him to help repair his cart, as he'd just made too much nice cream in his excitement to serve it to other monsters, and made the stand break a wheel and topple over. On top of that, Papyrus had built a puzzle he'd forgotten the step sequence to, and shocked himself bad enough to singe his scarf; Sans had a hell of a time disabling it afterwards, and advised his brother to maybe not build puzzles with the intent of giving someone a 450-volt shock. 

Additionally, the annoying dog had visited their home to steal more bones and ended up knocking the power out again, which took Sans more than an hour (and some colorful commentary) to fix. After that, he went to sentry duty with Papyrus and had to rescue Lesser Dog from one of his brother’s puzzles involving peanut butter and some sort of obstacle course (he told him to shut that one down, too). All around the Underground he went and worked, helping monsters out with their occasional problems, as well as going to work.

It was only understandable that, on Friday, he was _ragged._

Despite claiming she was taking the week off, Alphys called Sans into the lab. One of the ventilation systems for the Core had malfunctioned and she was worried the others would follow suit, so now they had to fix and upgrade all ten of them.

“I’ve m-m-marked the f-five you'll be fixing on this m-map,” she explained, looking sheepish as she handed it over to the skeleton. Sans examined the map with dread and irritability.

“Alphys, you're sending me all over the place,” he said. “Couldn't you have arranged it so that we both wouldn't have go running back and forth everywhere?”

“W-w-well…” The female hesitated, wringing her hands and sweating in a way that had nothing to do with their location in Hot Land. Sans understood immediately.

“...these are the more difficult ones.”

“Y-yes,” she confessed. “I hope you don't mind. I'll incr-crease your p-p-pay, of course! Some of these a-are dangerous, and -”

“S’fine,” he shrugged, palming exhaustedly at his eyes. He just had to stick it out one more day and then he could sleep for the weekend. It would be fine. “I'm heading out, then. Should I meet you back here when I'm done?”

“Nope! Once you're f-f-f-finished, just go ahead and h-head back home,” Alphys insisted. “Thank you s-so much for coming in S-Sans, I'm sorry I c-came back t-t-too early -”

“Hey, don't sweat it,” said the skeleton, jokingly wiping his forehead for emphasis as he lifted up a tool box. “S’my job to assist you. Be careful, an’ I'll see you Monday.”

“Okay. B-bye, Sans!” She said, thanking him before leaving to modify her half of the vents. Sans looked at his map again and weeped on the inside; why did all of them need fixed if only one was truly broken?

With a flash of blue, he teleported to the first of his five locations, and almost fell over when he reappeared. Strange - he didn't usually do that. He shrugged it off, putting the map away and approaching the vent with his toolkit.

“Alright,” he yawned, jaw popping from the action. “Let's get busy, then.”

 

•••

 

He was almost done. Four of the five vents had been shut off, cleaned, reconfigured, and restarted again, and now he only had to fix the one by New Home. Pausing to readjust his lab coat (why hadn't he just ditched it at the lab?), his eye lit up its usual blue as he prepared for teleport.

In hindsight, working on less than six hours of sleep every night and making a jump all the way from Snowdin to New Home while mentally and physically exhausted was not the smartest thing Sans could've done. He arrived at his destination with a rush of air and the toolkit slipped from his fingers, clattering to the ground as he swayed.

“Oh geez,” he mumbled, clutching at his head. A horrible migraine had blossomed and his vision swam. Before him he could see the vent he needed to adjust, and in his peripherals he caught the glimpse of a large figure. 

“Sans?” He heard his name being called. The skeleton tried to turn towards the source but his world rotated, impossibly blurry before fading altogether.

He was unconscious before he hit the ground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, wow! I updated!  
> Sorry this is late. I'll be honest, I hit a wall and didn't want to continue for a little bit, but the reception this has been getting is phenomenal!
> 
> Thank you guys so much for all the feedback. It really reinspired me to continue, so have a longer chapter as a sign of my gratitude!
> 
> I really wanna thank galaxyskeleton most of all. You left so many comments on all my fics and I couldn't have appreciated anything more. Thank you!


	9. Chapter 9

Contrary to what most believed, Asgore wasn’t a very busy king. Sure, he had plenty to do as the sovereign entity of the Underground, but there weren’t many problems he needed to solve. He was a peaceful ruler, and, in turn, his subjects were similarly pacifistic, which left him with more free time than expected. Unwilling to sit idly around, he’d spend the rest of the day tending to flowers in the throne room or wandering around the kingdom in search of amicable conversation. His primary destination was usually the laboratory in Hot Land, but Alphys had taken the week off, so he set out for Waterfall instead. 

 

• • •

 

The atmosphere was serene, as it usually was, when he gingerly climbed off the River Person’s boat and wished him well. Asgore began walking and allowed his mind to idle as he traversed the soggy landscape. In the distance, he could easily make out the bright blue glow from the echo flowers, their use vastly and adorably taken advantage of. Voices reached him soon enough as he got closer.

Walking through the caves simultaneously comforted and saddened the King, leaving him feeling bittersweet. The whispers of children, making wishes or confessing dreams, filled the echoing expanse, and he reflexively listened in vain for two voices he knew he’d never hear again.

_“…I wish Chara was a monster, so they could live as long as monsters do...”_

_“…I wish Asriel was human, so we could grow old together...”_

Old memories churned inside Asgore’s mind, some pleasant and some less so. He let them consume his thoughts while he was alone, and continued to walk through the echo flowers with a forced indifference. Once he exited the cave, the murmurs trapped in their petals began to fade until it was silent all together. In the quiet, he felt calm.

The goat monster sighed, running a hand through blonde locks, and continued. He was going to take a stroll through the residential area of Waterfall and visit Undyne for a bit, but now he just wanted to be with his thoughts. Along he ambled, waving to the occasional monster as they passed by and greeting the children that stopped to bow to him, when he spotted Alphys crouched on the ground in front of a large vent-looking system. 

She was deeply immersed in her work, surrounded by tools and muttering what sounded like numbers to herself as he walked closer. He stopped next to the toolbox and cleared his throat.

“Howdy,” he greeted, and watched her squeak in surprise. She shot up like a bullet, stubbing her toe on whatever she’d been modifying and crying out in pain. “Oh, dear, I hadn’t meant to startle you… should I heal your foot?”

“N-n-no, your m-majesty,” she said, adjusting her glasses. “I’m okay! I was j-j-just rec-c-c-calibrating the ventilation syst-tem!” 

“That sounds like hard work,” the king said, “but didn’t you request vacation time? Is it already over?”

“I d-d-did, but I noticed one of the sh-shafts was malfunctioning and d-d-d-decided to update all of th-the systems with S-S-Sans,” she stammered, nervously wringing her clawed hands. “H-he should be d-d-d-done by now, and this is m-my last one, too.”

“Alright,” Asgore said, smiling fondly at his Royal Scientist. She couldn’t meet his gaze, bashful under such earnest interest. “Thank you for your service, Alphys. You’re a very reliable girl.”

The lizard monster sputtered and flushed bright red. “O-oh I’m h-h-hardly as valuable as you m-make me out to be, your highne-ness! I’m j-just doing my j-j-job, after all. It’s what I g-get paid for!” she gestured to the vent shyly. “B-besides, S-Sans is working on the d-d-d-difficult ones. He’s doing m-more work than I am. You sh-should be thanking him!”

“If I see him, I’ll remember to,” Asgore nodded. “Even so, I appreciate you ending your vacation early to take care of the problem. Remind me to increase your pay the next time we chat; I’d love to treat you to tea, too.”

The shorter monster could only give him a meek nod in response, sweat beading atop her forehead. “W-w-well, I should probably f-f-f-finish fixing the v-vent…”

“Oh, yes!” he said, like someone who’d forgotten they left the stove on. “I’m distracting you from your task! My apologies, Alphys, I will see you around! Have a good day!”

He waved kindly to her and continued walking, mood sufficiently lightened, and Alphys blatantly stared after him. Her blush deepened and she sighed dreamily.

“I want him to cr-crush me.”

 

• • •

 

Asgore journeyed around the Underground for a few hours more, talking to various citizens about their day (and subtly reminding them that tax time was approaching), before deciding that it was time to head back home. He was beginning to tire, and hadn’t eaten dinner yet, so he turned around and walked back the way he came. Whistling an idle toon as he traversed, he made it back to New Home late in the evening. 

As he was getting ready to turn onto the path that took him to the palace, he felt a rush of power and a loud popping sound to his right. Turning, he saw Sans several yards away, clutching his skull and looking concerningly worse for wear. Concerned, he approached the skeleton.

“Sans?” he called out. The shorter male turned in his direction, eye sockets devoid of their usual light, and Asgore had to rush to catch him before he hit the ground. “Sans!”

The king gently set him down, hands glowing green and ready to heal any signs of injury on his body. A quick check revealed him to be unharmed, but an unusual amount of sweat was coming from his body and his breathing was labored. He was sick, and it appeared that he’d overused his magic moving from vent system to vent system. 

“Golly, I can’t leave him here,” Asgore frowned, gathering him into his arms. Sans weighed almost nothing to him, and he was sure the skeleton would’ve cracked a pun about it if he were conscious. He left the toolbox alone, his priority being to transport Sans to a safe place and get him help, and hurried back to the palace. 

“Fetch Doctor Alphys,” he called to the first Royal Guard he saw. “and Papyrus. Please bring them both here immediately.”

The guard nodded and hurried away, leaving Asgore alone. The goat monster carried Sans through the corridor, entering the first guest room he saw and lying him down. His expression was pained, jaw slightly ajar as air unevenly passed through it, and he was hot to the touch. The king was distressed, having never seen his friend in such a state before. He had been foolish enough to assume that skeletons, lacking skin and the potential to carry bacteria, just didn’t ever fall ill, and was more than put-off to learn the opposite. He just wasn’t sure what to do!

But then memories of a child, flushed and uncomfortably hot, passed through Asgore’s mind, and he remembered what actions he needed to take.

Quickly, he fetched a bowl of cold water and a soft cloth. Just like he had with his own child, the king dampened the towel and gently pressed it to Sans’ forehead, the effects immediate. His expression softened a marginal amount and his body untensed itself, the male lying prone in the bed while his breathing evened out bit by bit. Asgore, relieved, heaved a sigh. 

“What did we do to break fevers?” he muttered to himself. He pictured his wife and children, allowing the memories to be viewed from an objective standpoint, and tried to recall what Toriel had instructed him to do. “Cool them down? No…make them _hotter._ ”

Carefully, he left the cloth on Sans’ forehead and set the bowl on the nightstand, gathering the sides of the blanket and beginning to tuck the skeleton in. He made sure he was snug up to his neck, effectively trapping his body heat beneath the heavy comforter. Sans shifted, his body struggling in vain to free itself, but Asgore stayed with him and kept a gentle pressure on his chest to still his movement. 

The sweating returned in earnest, regardless of how many times Asgore dampened and re-dampened the cloth for his skull, and his breathing escalated to heavy pants. He looked miserable, indicated by the furrow of his brow bone and the frown on his features. His cheekbones were flushed blue, almost as dark as the shade of his iris, and the king wished he could do something to ease his suffering. 

Thankfully, the guard member didn’t take long to retrieve Alphys, as she was closer to New Home than Papyrus, and informed the king that the taller skeleton would be here shortly. She entered the room in a rush, carrying a first-aid kit with her.

“Oh n-no!” The yellow lizard cried, standing next to the bed. “D-d-d-did he get hurt p-performing the repairs!?”

“He’s uninjured,” Asgore said, “but he fainted.”

“S-so he’s sick?” she asked, moving the covers down to look at the skeleton more closely. She opened the first aid kit and removed what looked to be a modified camera, turning it on with a flick of her claw. Snapping a picture of his chest, she waited for the image to process before shaking her head. “H-his magic is d-d-d-dangerously depleted. He m-must’ve overused it t-traveling from v-v-vent to vent.”

“Depleted?” Asgore said, looking to Sans’ chest. He couldn’t see his soul without pulling it out, not like his wife could, and performing such an intimate act wasn’t favorable here unless it was an emergency. Gently he readjusted the blanket, tucking it into place. Sans fidgeted in response, a weak groan leaving his mouth. “Will he be alright? Is that why he’s sick?”

“P-probably,” she nodded, adjusting her glasses anxiously. “U-um, I don’t need t-t-to tell you that our souls are f-finely attuned to our b-b-b-bodies, but misuse of our m-m-magic can lead to th-things like illness a-and injury. S-Sans’ body will n-n-need to replenish the m-magic it lost t-today, but if he isn’t h-h-h-hurt, then he’ll b-be fine.”

The king nodded, taking in all of what she’d told him. “Then this is a waiting game?” He asked. “There is nothing we can do for him?”

“K-keep him warm and c-c-comfortable,” she suggested. “That’s the m-most we can d-d-do before his soul d-does the rest.” The woman put her camera back in the kit and closed it, looking at the floor nervously. 

“I-I’m sorry I can’t do m-m-more, your highness –“

“Please, you’ve been more help than you think,” Asgore said. “I was clueless before you explained the problem. Thank you for coming.”

Alphys nodded, flushed from his praise. “W-well, I need to g-g-go fix the last v-v-v-vent,” she said, excusing herself. Right as she left the room, Papyrus came rushing in.

“Is he okay!?” he nearly shouted, skidding to a stop at the bed and looking at his older sibling. “Is he - …oh.”

Asgore looked at the taller skeleton in confusion. “Oh?” he pried.

Papyrus, wearing a face, not of concern, but irritability, straightened and crossed his arms. “He’s made himself sick again!” 

_Again?_ Sans had done this before? The king looked at him, silently asking for clarification.

“My brother has a horrible habit of overworking himself,” Papyrus explained. “The last time he did this, he caught a fever and ended up bedridden for a week! I told him his plate was too full!” He dropped one arm and gestured to Sans with the other, sighing. “And now he’s done it again! He’s quite a hard worker sometimes, but even the Great Papyrus knows when too much activity is too much activity!”

“Ah,” said Asgore, “I see. It’s good to know you’re here to worry about him, Papyrus.”

The skeleton smiled and shrugged. “Someone has to! He won’t do it himself!” He moved around to Asgore’s side of the bed and grasped one of his paws with his hands. “Thank you for taking care of him, your Majesty! If you don’t mind, could he stay in this room tonight? Just until he breaks the fever?”

“Consider it done,” he said. “My home is always open to the two of you, Papyrus. You may stay as long as you desire.” 

Asgore stood, his height overtaking the skeleton’s, and he patted his hand. “I apologize for having you summoned here so quickly. Would you like to have something to eat?”

“If you wouldn’t mind,” Papyrus nodded, accepting his offer. “Sans will just have to sleep this off, I suppose; there’s no sense in me sitting in here fussing over him.”

The goat monster agreed, walking out of the room with him. Before closing the door, he looked to the smaller brother lying in bed once more. Sans was still panting but he had stopped struggling to get out of the blankets, resigned to the uncomfortable heat until it passed. He sympathized for the male, shutting the door and walking down the hall. 

Curious, he couldn’t help but think, glancing to Papyrus’ uncharacteristically blank expression. He was worried from the accident, but not enough to truly panic. It was almost like Sans’ behavior was expected; predicted, if one were paranoid enough to assume so. 

What kind of position was the skeleton in that made him, most likely consciously, work to self-destruction? Asgore was itching to know.


End file.
